


How i can go on?

by Naquar



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 80's Music, Dubious Morality, Insecurity, Inspired by Music, Music, Other, Sick Character, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28770978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naquar/pseuds/Naquar
Relationships: John Deacon & Freddie Mercury
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

How I can go on? 

Chapter 1: Leave me alone

1986

The last day, Freddie and John had argued, rather bitterly.  
It appeared a little strange.  
Despite the fact that their personalities were very different from each other, that is, Freddie loved to show off, he was as hyperactive as ever, while John was the exact opposite: a quiet guy, he took things rather calmly, somehow they had managed to find several points of contact because of one thing, in common, shyness.  
"Just leave me alone, John!" had shouted Freddie, before slamming the door hard, leaving the other colleagues astonished.  
"Brian go find him."  
Brian May, the compassionate guitarist, stifled an angry outburst. Why the hell were they trying to force him to play the peacemaker? Couldn't they just let the other guy blow off steam?  
"Come on, just this once," Roger pleaded with him, in a not-so-convincing tone.  
John was silent, but you could tell half a mile away that he was worried about Freddie, though he would never admit it.  
The bassist didn't like to air his feelings.  
"John why don't you go?" asked Brian, trying to turn the problem back on his partner.  
He was the one who had started the argument that later escalated into an ugly fight, so it was his job to go after him.  
"Well?"  
"Better not, they might give each other a hard time," Roger interjected, stifling a giggle.  
"Spoke the smart one!" snorted John, crossing his arms over his chest.  
"So you go," Roger concluded, ignoring the bassist's insult.  
Brian mumbled something unintelligible before leaving. He had lost across the board.  
The search began: he asked a couple of technicians if they had seen the mustachioed singer, the answer was negative; he made a quick check around the corridor, the various offices, without finding anything.  
Dejected, the guitarist let out a long sigh and mentally marked himself that he had to teach those two wretches a lesson and Freddie wouldn't get away with it either.  
There was one last place left to check, Brian thought, running a hand through his curly hair.  
The terrace.  
He hoped it would at least be there.  
Quick as lightning, he took the elevator and after a couple of flights of stairs that his long legs allowed him to walk quickly.  
He reached his destination.  
He was immensely relieved when he saw him: Freddie was smoking nervously, looking at the view below him.  
the view below him.  
"Freddie" the guitarist called him.  
The singer took a puff of smoke, before turning around.  
"What do you want?" he asked him in a sour tone, not very happy that someone was coming to bother him.  
"Come downstairs, we need to talk," Brian replied, spatially impatient.  
"They sent you two, didn't they?"  
Taken aback, Brian stiffened: sometimes, Freddie could be far too perceptive.  
"Look, I'm not going to sit around waiting for you for eternity, like an idiot," exclaimed the guitarist.  
"Can I finish my fucking cigarette first?"  
Brian rolled his eyes.  
At least a good five minutes passed. Brian, for a long moment, looked back at him.  
He was hiding something, that was for sure, and most of all he didn't want to see John, who had raised a question that Freddie wanted to keep hidden.  
"Freddie may I know, what's the matter with you?"  
The singer tossed the cigarette butt, only to crush it under the heel of his shoe. Perhaps he was ignoring the question? Or stalling for an answer?  
"I'm tired, okay? I think...I think I need a fucking break," Freddie confessed, sighing.   
Brian laid a hand on his shoulder; if he didn't want to confide patience.  
"Let's go downstairs, we need to discuss."

°°°  
John returned to Veronica and his children.  
Finally, he had decided that he had to try to be with his family, because first of all he was a husband and a father, before being Queen's bass player, right?  
Most of all, he understood, when he saw his wife, reading a story to the twins, while Joshua took a nap in his bed.  
But a small part of him kept reminding him of his fight with Freddie: what painful button had he touched, perhaps inadvertently? What was he hiding? He was tired, but of what?  
The questions kept running through his mind and the more he tried to explain Freddie's behavior, the less he could.  
Distracting him from those thoughts was his son Cameron who was persistently tugging at his sleeve.  
John bowed his head. He reached out a hand and tousled his brown hair.  
"Daddy, weren't we supposed to finish building the tracks for the train?" asked Cameron, staring at him with his dark eyes.  
"Very well, little brat let's finish the job."  
"I'm not a two year old" his son reminded him with a grimace.   
After all, they weren't bad then to take two years off to unplug a bit, John reflected, without stopping smiling.  
Then he set those thoughts aside and followed Cameron into the living room.


	2. The call

Chapter 2: The call

One year (and a half) later

"Hello? Hi Jim, yes I'm fine. My husband is here, I'll put him on."  
Veronica was not at all pleased with that business call and knowing her husband, she knew he would not shirk his duties; he had already spent, so much time touring the world with the Queens and where had his family left her?  
Annoyed, she handed him the phone.  
"Listen, Freddie's been asking about you," announced Jim Beach, telegraphically. "You know, he's working with that famous soprano Montserrat Caballé and asked if you could work on one of her pieces, if you agree," the producer explained.   
John raised his eyebrows in surprise, felt his heart do a pirouette: Freddie could   
"Hello John, are you still there?" asked Jim, on the other end of the line.  
"Yes, tell me the rest..."  
So they agreed, on where, when to meet.  
A quick hello, John hung up.  
"I'll go pack your bag," announced Veronica angrily and disappeared from the kitchen.

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)


	3. John meets Freddie

Chapter 3: John meets Freddie 

Jim first helped John, unload his luggage at the hotel, before going to Montreux.  
John had exchanged a few words with him then had taken to smoking under the strain; still, they hadn't seen each other for only a year and a half...why so nervous? He asked himself, puffing.  
The manager gave a half smile. "Um...look at that, he's not going to eat you. Fred's always Fred," he observed with amusement.  
"I know that," John replied, taken aback.  
"Don't get mad and relax, he won't slap you as soon as he sees you."  
"Jim?"  
John wasn't really in the mood to be teased.  
"Keep driving, please."  
"Um...we're touchy, huh?" the other teased him, not stopping giggling. Then at yet another look from the bassist, the manager decided (wisely) to remain silent.  
They arrived at their destination around five in the afternoon.  
Jim parked the car in the driveway.  
Peter Freestone, known as Phoebe, Freddie's personal assistant, came to meet them a few minutes later.  
Jim and John were pleased that Peter did not ask about the outcome of the trip, merely shaking hands amicably.  
"I'm off, other things await me," Jim announced with a long sigh.  
"Oh, the paperwork will sometimes get buried in it."  
"Is this revenge?"  
"For what?" asked Peter curiously.  
"He's been making fun of me the whole trip," John replied, casually, but really feeling his stomach turn.  
Jim took his leave quickly, with a wry smile on his lips.  
Peter and John walked in.  
The bassist felt like he was sitting on a bramble bush.  
"Relax," he told himself, but the muscles in his body remained as rigid as a wooden board.  
Phoebe accompanied him to the recording room.  
And there he was.  
Concentrated with pen and paper, looking for some inspiration, sitting at the table.   
"Freddie...' Peter called him.  
The singer looked up, gave a quick smile. "Um...thanks. Hi John, nice to see you," he simply said.  
The bassist sat with his back far too straight, he could feel his palms sweating and then cast a glance at Freddie: he didn't look much changed.   
Except for something.  
"Hey...what happened to your moustache?"   
The singer raised his head and then threw him a puzzled look.  
"I shaved it off, but what does that have to do with...?"  
"Ah, no nothing you used to walk around with that sort of gay clone style look or something..." commented John in a purely casual tone.  
Freddie raised an eyebrow. "But what does that have to do with anything? Yeah, I cut them off because I was sick of wearing them."  
"Okay, you actually look good."  
"Ah, I'd better..." replied Freddie stifling a smile.  
John relaxed a little, feeling the tension ease.   
"So...how are you holding up, Deaky?"  
"Me? Oh, the usual...kids growing up, the usual stuff," John replied with a shrug.  
"Goodness, I feel like I'm hearing my grandmother talking, cheer the fuck up!" retorted Freddie, with one of his usual bursts of energy.  
"Okay."   
"I hope you weren't annoyed by my call," said Freddie suddenly.  
"No and you...how are you?"  
The question hung in the air.  
Freddie blinked slowly. He moistened his lips.  
"Yeah, I'd say I'm pretty good, it's been a year and a half since we've seen each other, you haven't changed have you?"  
"Freddie, I've already been categorised in a number of ways, so I'd thank you if you'd knock it off," John said laconically.  
"Uh-uh, and you've remained rather touchy."  
The bassist huffed.  
"OK, OK, on to serious business... I need your help: as you know, I'm working with soprano Montserrat Caballé and I need some arrangements for a song with your bass," Freddie explained and John noticed something again.  
Yes, Freddie seemed to have changed in some ways: he had never lost his verve, but it seemed as if he was calmer but also tired.   
"What's the name of the song?"  
"How I can go on? Isn't it beautiful?"  
But what did he mean?  
John wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.  
"You know when you realise you've reached a certain point, passed it? But you still want to be there... what would you try to do?"  
John knew in that instant: something was changing, sure, and maybe where was destiny going?

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)


	4. The meaning of words

Chapter 4: The meaning of words

"On...crossing the line?"  
"Yeah."  
John blinked quickly.  
"What would you do John?" asked Freddie suddenly.  
"Me? You know I don't like to philosophise," John replied defensively.  
"Come on, can't you answer me?"  
"Okay...I'd also try to...boh...push the envelope...as far as I can, the same thing you would."  
Freddie smiled in amusement. "That just leaves the bass parts to be arranged, you can start tomorrow morning if you want"  
"Fine by me."  
Freddie got up from his chair.  
He attacked the song... How I can go on?  
The lyrics were about a man who, though hurt and pointed at, would find someone who still believed in him and would stand by him even when darkness fell, who would comfort him and make him strong; someone who would listen to him, though dreams and memories had slipped away and no one could find them anywhere.  
A tear rolled down the bassist's cheek.  
A beautiful song, he thought.  
His heart was pounding, really a beautiful one, something that made you want to listen to it all the way through.  
"Anyway I think your bass will soften it up a bit, I don't want it to be funereal," said the singer, with his usual prima donna air.  
"Mr. Mercury, I'll be happy to work on it," John remarked, smiling.  
Freddie turned to admire the lake, on which the water reflected the sun's rays.  
"Thank you very much Mr Deacon, I'll see you then."  
"See you in the morning" she greeted him, before leaving.  
John in his room, arranged the bass parts.  
And the next morning, he showed up bright and early with the track ready.  
They went into the recording studio.  
Freddie attacked the song and John accompanied on bass. The singer seemed to be impressed with the positive change in the song.  
But John decided in his heart, that for once, he would play it just for him.  
At least for now.

END


End file.
